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Its maw opened, revealing a pink, glistening cavern that seemed to stretch endlessly back into a dark gullet. A wave of hot, vaguely acidic air washed over her. The inside of its mouth was mesmerizing and horrifying—smooth, wet muscle pulsing with a life of its own.
This is not happening. This is a nightmare.
The Seviper’s jaws widened further, its upper palate bumping against her forehead. Cynthia screamed then, a raw, desperate sound that echoed in the small clearing. She threw her head back, but there was nowhere to go. The coils held her fast. The open maw descended.
The first contact was a slick, overwhelming heat. The inside of the Seviper’s mouth was like a living, wet glove. It enveloped her forehead, her hair becoming instantly soaked with saliva. She felt the press of its tongue against her face, a massive, muscular thing that lapped at her skin as it might taste prey. The world narrowed to sound and sensation: the wet, sucking noises, the guttural swallows of the serpent, her own choked, muffled screams.
It began to work its jaws, and Cynthia’s head was pushed deeper, her nose and mouth now submerged in the hot, tight channel. She couldn’t breathe. Panic, pure and electric, shot through her. She thrashed with the last of her strength, her bare feet kicking wildly in the empty air, a futile protest against the inevitable. Her breasts, pressed against the roof of the serpent’s mouth, were squeezed and smeared with saliva, a lewd, sliding sensation that made her sob.
Aldith watched, a hand resting possessively on the Seviper’s neck. “Good,” he coaxed. “Take it all. Every bit of her. Her strength, her title… it’s all yours now.”
With a powerful, peristaltic contraction, the Seviper took more. Cynthia’s shoulders popped past its jaws, the pressure immense and constant. The saliva acted as a lubricant, easing her passage into a tighter, hotter darkness.
